Killer Queen
by IceonFire7
Summary: For the Good Ship Charloe's Topsy Turvy Challenge. When Bass and Charlie go on a diplomatic mission, they run into trouble that may be even more than they can handle. Charloe


**This is my very late entry to the Good Ship Charloe's Topsy Turvy Challenge. For some reason, I really struggled with this one. I decided that I really liked the prompt about Charlie fighting another woman for Bass. But then I remembered I hate writing fight scenes. With a huge fight scene, and smut too (which always gives me a hassle), it's no wonder this took so long. ;) Anyway, I stuck it out and here it is. Please take a moment to review if you can. Let me know how it turned out. **

**Extra special thanks to Lemon and Irish, both of you were very helpful to me when I really needed it. I might have given up on this one without you guys. It's truly appreciated.**

**I don't own anything of Revolution, but if I did, we wouldn't be worried about whether or not the upcoming comic book will have Charloe in it.**

* * *

The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small.

'Off with his head!' she said, without even looking round. - _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_

* * *

She could barely remember how it came to this. How she was standing here in the middle of a crowd, defending Sebastian Monroe, fighting to the death to save his life. It was only two short years ago that she wanted to end him herself.

She glanced to the side, saw him shackled there, the cut on his left cheek bloody, those ridiculously blue eyes riveted on her. No, there was no way she could let him go now. Not when he'd come to mean so much.

* * *

_24 hours earlier..._

None of this was going as planned. The diplomatic mission they were on had gone so far south it was practically in Antarctica, and they were trapped in a territory with any rescue mission weeks away. They'd be dead long before then.

Bass glanced around their cramped little cell. Charlie sat next to him, eyes closed, head leaning back against the wall. Across from them, Aaron huddled with Priscilla, his arm around her.

It was supposed to be such a simple trip. Go to Colorado Springs, meet with officials, extend the friendship of the Republic of Texas to yet another part of the Plains Nation. Aaron and Priscilla were the diplomats, he and Charlie the muscle. But in order to do so, they'd had to cross through one small strip of unchartered land. It wasn't protected by Texas, and it wasn't a part of the Plains. It was Wasteland, free and clear. And it was riddled with clans that made some of those back in Texas look downright peaceful.

And that's exactly how they'd found themselves trapped in a dilapidated jail cell, at the mercy of one of the worst war clans he'd come across in a long time. What terrified him the most was that they'd snuck up on him and Charlie, attacking before either of them had any clue there was an enemy in their midst. That just didn't happen. On those rare occasions he didn't catch the scent of danger, she always did. This time, they'd both been fooled. He still had no idea how.

"What's going through that brain of yours?"

He turned his head to her, catching the worn look on her face. "Just wondering how the hell we wound up here."

She scoffed. "Somehow the two of us got beaten? I've got no explanation."

"Yeah, the impossible happened...and here we are."

A few guards approached the cell, pointing at Bass and Charlie. "Warriors, with us. Now."

They exchanged a look and stood only to be stopped by Aaron. "Wait, where are you taking them? Where are they going?"

"Aaron, just stay here with Priscilla," Charlie said. "We'll be back."

"Yeah, we don't know that, Charlie," Aaron said and Bass rolled his eyes. Stay-Puft was always such a pessimist.

"Aaron. Stay here and take care of your wife, alright," Bass said, his voice low. The big man nodded, returning to his place beside Priscilla.

Bass followed Charlie out the door, the guards as vicious and brutal looking as any he'd seen. They led them down the hall and into a large domed area. He realized that back in the Pre-Blackout civilized world, this must have been a courthouse. It explained the cells in the back and the large atrium they were now standing in. But this huge chamber had greatly changed over the past 17 years.

It was now obviously used as a throne room of a sort. Although the paint on the walls had begun to peel and parts of the structure to crumble, it still held a noble air. A large leather chair sat on a raised platform, furs draped over the side, large potted plants behind it. Bass imagined someone raiding a furniture store and stealing the entire tribal display to set it up here. But it didn't take away from the woman on the chair.

She was, quite actually, frightening. Her hair was shaved off on the sides with the top pulled into a long blonde ponytail that fell down her back, her eyes a shockingly pale shade of blue. But it was her body that seemed most out of place. She was immense, not fat, but more muscular than any human he'd ever seen in person. The animal skins she wore barely covered her breasts. Pre-Blackout she must have been a female bodybuilder.

From the corner of his eye he saw Charlie's stunned expression as she took in the woman's appearance. He couldn't imagine that in her life, in the world where people had to struggle to find something to eat, that she'd ever seen a woman of this size. Without realizing it, she stepped just a little bit closer to him.

As they were shoved in front of the throne, the bodybuilder stood; she was more imposing than Duncan ever was. And she was obviously the leader of the clan.

"You were found on our lands," the large blonde said, her voice throaty and rich. In another world, he might have found it sexy. "Why are you here?"

Bass and Charlie glanced at each other, and at her small nod, he became their spokesman. "We're passing through on a mission for Texas. We have no intention of stealing anything that is yours. If you let us leave, we'll go right away. We won't travel through your lands again."

The woman towered over him, even without the raised platform she was standing upon. As she stared down at him, her eyes lingering on his body, he felt a shiver of discomfort running up his spine. He hid it well, behind the facade of the general, the way he'd hid emotions all those years in Philly.

"No, I don't think you'll be going anywhere." It was when her clear blue eyes shifted to Charlie that he felt the first real stab of fear.

"The Republic of Texas will come looking for us. And take vengeance if anything happens to us."

"I have no interest in picking a fight with Texas, but I can't allow someone to trespass through my territory with no consequences." Her eyes narrowed at him. "I shall only kill one of you. That should appease Texas well enough. Your warrior woman will pay the price."

"No!" Two men started for Charlie, and Bass stepped in front of her. "No...not her. I'll pay."

"Bass, you can't!" Charlie shouted.

"Charlie, shut the hell up," he muttered.

"I won't waste a man. The girl is unnecessary."

What the hell kind of twisted world did this bitch live in? The two guards who had pulled them out of the cell stepped towards Charlie again. "Listen to me. What can I offer to have all three of my friends leave here alive?"

The mammoth woman raised an eyebrow as she stared down at him. It was the little grin that threw him. "You can offer yourself."

"I already did."

"Not as a sacrifice." Now the grin widened, and a brutality rose to the surface. "I need...a man."

He glanced around. "Looks like you have a lot of those."

"No, not them. They're...merely subjects." Her eyes drank him in. "I could use a man like you. I need an heir, and I could use a stud. It's far better if you're willing."

Bass loved women. For a ton of different reasons, true, but fucking was definitely one of them. And yet there was no way in hell he wanted his dick within ten feet of this woman. The man he was a few years ago would have easily picked himself...but it was Charlie's life hanging in the balance. He only had one choice when it came to her. "I want a solemn oath that if I accept your terms, **all **of my friends go free."

"I am a queen. My word is the law."

"Bass, you can't do this!" Charlie reached for his arm. "Bass-"

He shook her off. "Then I accept."

"No! Bass..."

He turned to her. Ah, hell, there just wasn't going to be enough time. Somehow, he sort of thought they'd find a way to finally admit there just might be something between them. Now, they would never have that chance. "Charlie, you get Aaron and Priscilla and get the hell out of here."

"No," she said between gritted teeth. "I am not leaving you behind. It was my life on the line here. This wasn't your decision to make."

"Well, I made it anyway. Now get out!"

"Bass-" As she stepped towards him, a guard grabbed her arm, yanking her back away from him. Her sharp cry echoed in his head, and he moved forward, intending to get to Charlie.

He'd barely taken one step when two more guards pulled him back, shoving him to his knees. With a nod from their queen, each took one crushing blow to his face. He heard Charlie's yelp and fought to keep blackness from rushing over him. "Hey, I thought I was the new king around here."

The blonde Amazon descended the platform and stood before him. "You're my stud, not my king. You exist for my pleasure. Your body belongs to me now. And when the time is right, you will assist me in creating an heir. But know that I am not afraid to share. And if you act up again, I'll allow one of my henchmen to sodomize you."

He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd been scared. Angry, hostile, hurt, in pain, crazy, those were emotions he understood and could deal with, but fear...this woman and her clan scared the living shit out of him. But Charlie...Charlie would be safe, along with Aaron and Priscilla. For her, for them, he'd find the courage to go through with this.

"Charlie, I need you to go. Please," he begged.

But those damn stubborn blue eyes would not leave it be. "What can I do to gain his life back?"

The queen lifted her head, taking in Charlie, as the rest of her subjects watched the situation with wide eyes. "He made a trade for you. There is nothing you can do."

"I don't believe that." Charlie lifted a hand to cut him off before he could even protest. "There's always something. Some ritual, some battle to be won or test to be taken. What do I have to do to for his life?"

Bass groaned; she was ruining everything. "Charlie..."

The queen stared at the tiny girl. "There is one...battle, as you put it. Someone may challenge for the right to a man, or woman, of their choosing."

"What's the challenge?" she asked.

The queen smirked. "They must fight, to the death, for the one they want. They must fight whoever owns them at the time."

Jesus, Charlie would have to face this behemoth. Bass remembered a night in Vegas, having to take on a much larger man. That was nothing compared to the difference between Charlie and this insane woman. "Charlotte, don't do this."

Before he could say another word in protest, Charlie shouted out her answer. "Then I challenge you to a death match. For the right to this man."

The words had been spoken, and there was nothing he could do now to make things right. "Charlie..."

"I wanted your life anyway, little girl. Now I shall have it...and your man. Challenge accepted. Tomorrow at sundown." She motioned to her guards. "But I will be generous and allow you to spend your last night together. Take them to the waiting room."

* * *

Probably an office once, the waiting room had only two cots with one small table between them for furniture; the windows had been bricked over, but a lit candle sat on the table, casting shadows on the wall. There was another light source from somewhere, and Bass's eyes were drawn to the ceiling where two skylights allowed moonlight to filter in. To see something like that in the world they lived in should have been impressive. And he would have been if he hadn't been so pissed.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he shouted as soon as the door was locked behind them.

She spun around, fire in her eyes. "What the hell was I thinking? I was thinking that I'm not leaving you here."

"Charlie, I had that all planned out. She made a deal with me. You were as good as free."

"And you were going to be trapped here with that...woman!" She stepped closer, cutting out almost all the space between them. "You can't tell me that's what you want."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Of course it wasn't. But it was either that or you die...and I wasn't about to let that happen."

"And I wasn't about to leave you here," she spat.

"Why? Why does it matter?"

"You're my partner, you son of a bitch! You're my friend, my best friend! Think about it, Bass. My mom and Miles are always together. Aaron's with Priscilla." Tears filled her eyes. "It's you and me. And you never leave me behind. You always come back for me, Bass. Always. I'm not leaving you here."

He yanked her into a hug, enveloping her in arms. He pulled away enough to look into her eyes, his hands on her cheeks. "I just want you safe."

"Don't you understand I want the same thing?" She leaned her forehead against his. "Don't you get it, Bass?"

"Get what, Charlie?"

In response, she leaned forward and kissed him. Gathering her close, he nuzzled her neck, her arms wrapping around him as she snuggled into his body. It wasn't just sex she was after here; it was comfort and affection. He needed to take his time with her, to make sure she felt as loved and cherished as she really was.

Pulling back, she gazed up into his eyes. God, she was beautiful. Their mouths connected again, and she nibbled gently on his upper lip. He stopped only long enough to yank the thin mattresses off the small cots and lay them out side by side on the floor. She was sleeping in his arms tonight, and he wasn't about to worry whether or not they had enough room.

Kneeling on the mattresses, he held his hand out to her. She took it, falling to her knees beside him. "Is this really what you want, Charlie? Am I what you want?"

"More than anything." He kissed her again with more force than before, his tongue coming out to play with hers. Running his hands down her body, he grasped her ass, pulling her close to him. Her hands framed his face, alternating between kissing him and staring into his eyes. It was intense and far more personal than Bass was used to, at least in the past decade. But this was Charlie, and if any woman could break through his walls and force him to feel it was her.

Reaching down for the hem of her tank top, he lifted it up and over her head, tossing it aside; her bra quickly followed. As he yanked his own shirt off, she leaned forward, placing soft kisses along his ribcage. Licking her way up his chest, she met his mouth once again, nipping and sucking as their tongues tangled. "God, baby, I can't get enough of kissing you."

"We'll keep working on it then."

She smiled and he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her back and laying her down on the mattress. His hand slid down her body, rubbing between her legs, the denim of her jeans still between them. Dropping his head, he suckled at her breast, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak before switching to the other side. Charlie's head dropped back, a small moan escaping her; it only made him more anxious.

His movements between her legs increased in pace, and her hand slipped over his, the two of them pawing at her crotch together. Damn, everything she did just made him harder. He found her mouth again, kissing her with a fervor he'd rarely felt with a woman. Shelly had been the last. And God help him, he knew what that meant. How tragic for him to discover he truly loved Charlotte Matheson on the one and only night he might ever share with her.

He gnawed at her neck, biting lightly then licking the little wounds, wanting to mark her as his. Charlie didn't seem inclined to disagree as she pressed his head tightly against her skin. "Mine. You're mine, Charlie."

"I have been for a hell of a long time, Bass."

He found her royal blue eyes trained on him, emotions he couldn't even imagine her feeling for him swimming though them and making them brighter. "I don't deserve it. Any of it."

"That's not for you to decide."

He nodded; his respect for her was so extreme, he couldn't find it in himself to argue with her. Trailing kisses down her stomach, he quickly undid her button and zipper, pulling both her jeans and panties off, exposing her to him fully. Spreading her legs, he licked his way along her thigh, over to her core. He wanted to take his time, to taste and enjoy her, but he also desperately wanted her to come, wanted her wet so he could be inside her.

At the first touch of his tongue against her folds, Charlie's back arched off the bed. Rising up on one elbow, her fingers twisted in his curls, she gazed down at him, watching as he nipped her tight little bud. His eyes locked on hers, and the fire between them sizzled along his skin, tiny little licks of flame and electricity. She started rocking, rolling her hips to get closer to his tongue, closer to her orgasm. He indulged her, alternating from sucking her clit to thrusting his tongue inside of her. Within moments she was coming in his mouth.

As soon as she came down from her high, her hand found his cheek, and she urged him back up to her lips. She kissed him again, pushing him so he was on his back and she was on top. He had no problem with that; if Charlie wanted to take the lead, he would happily let her.

Both anxious to have him naked, they fumbled with his pants, managing to get them off with a bit of a struggle. As soon as he was free, she grabbed his cock with her hand, pumping him, her fingertips tracing his balls gently. Leaning forward slightly, she licked her lips. "Should I taste you?"

As much as he wanted her mouth around his dick, he wanted inside her far more. "Next time. Right now, I need to be buried deep in you."

Smiling, she straddled his legs. Keeping hold of his cock, she slowly slid down onto him. They both groaned, his hands landing on her ass, stroking her up and down his hard shaft. She helped him, moving her hips faster as she rose and fell, Bass meeting every downward motion with a thrust of his own. "Oh, God...oh, God, Bass..."

"Keep moving, baby. Keep riding me."

Her lips slammed against his, and he yanked her flush against him, their hips frantic, their mouths and tongues keeping the same pace. When she pulled away, her forehead met his, their eyes locked, unable or unwilling to look away from each other.

Her orgasm slammed into her unexpectedly, and she bellowed his name. He rolled her over, slamming into her as he strove to find his own release. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she kissed him again, her fingers in the short hairs on the back of his neck, refusing to let him move too far away. Like he had any intention of separating himself from her.

Feeling his control starting to slip, he jack-hammered into her, her groans and cries egging him on all the more. "Charlie, baby, you're so tight, so hot."

Her hand rested on his cheek; her eyes bored into his. "Bass, come for me."

Those words, combined with the snug feel of her, shoved him over the edge. He barely pulled out in time, spilling his seed over her legs as his orgasm shot through him. "Sorry..."

"Don't be. I don't care." Her fingers ran through his hair, pulling him against her, her lips slamming against his. "I don't care, Bass. I just want to be close to you."

He realized she was terrified. Tomorrow might very well be the last day of her life, and she was quite simply afraid of that. And while his own death didn't exactly scare the shit out of him, hers certainly did. He fell behind her on the mattress, gathering her close, his arms wrapped around her stomach as he cradled her against him. "I've got you, Charlie. And I'm not letting go. Not now...not ever."

Holding her tightly, he whispered into her ear. Little secrets about his life, his past, and whatever ways he knew to survive an unwinnable fight. When she finally fell asleep, she felt far more relaxed in his arms. He had no clue what would happen when she faced the queen the following night, but he found himself praying to any God who would listen to an ex-evil dictator to protect the woman he loved.

* * *

They spent the whole day in bed; food was brought in the morning and the afternoon. And while Charlie would have been content to make love to Bass over and over, he insisted that she sleep. She didn't really think it was necessary. There was a very high chance that she wasn't going to live to see another day.

He held her in his arms, just staring at her and kissing her. She'd never felt so cherished in all of her life. When it was obvious they could no longer put off the inevitable, they rose, dressing slowly; he helped her, touching her skin as often as possible, as if he couldn't bear to let go. Just before the guards came, he wrapped her in his arms again.

"Charlie..." His hand rested against her jaw. "Listen to me. Remember what I told you last night. You're smaller and more agile, but she's got the brawn. If you try to take her face to face, you'll lose. You need to avoid her and come in for hits, use your speed. Run out, run back in."

"Okay."

"And use what I gave you, Charlie." She nodded. "I know it might seem hopeless...but I need you to survive this. Find a way to make it through."

"I'll try." She kissed him, her tongue sliding past his lips one last time. "Bass, I..."

"I know...me too."

The door was thrown open as guards rushed in, yanking her away from Bass. He surged towards her, swearing and struggling against his captors. One solid hook to the left side of his face stopped him, a thin line of fresh blood dripping down his cheek.

They were led through double doors into a space just as large as the throne room but set up quite differently. Seats from the entrance to the middle of the room were filled with spectators; the queen sat behind a large desk at the opposite end, peering down at them with steely eyes. A short wooden rail ran through the center of the room, separating the seats from the area in front of the high desk. From pictures she'd seen, Charlie gathered this was once a courtroom. But now the area in front of the bench was covered in dirt. It was a ring, a place to hold a death match.

And quite possibly the place where she was going to die.

Light from huge lanterns hung around the room, brightening the area. Drummers lined one wall, pounding out a cadence in time with their footsteps. Charlie was fairly certain it was beating in time with her heart.

"Someone's seen too many movies," Bass muttered. She turned her head to him, and he must have seen the fear in her eyes. "Charlie, they're just trying to fake you out. You're one of the strongest damn women I know. You come back to me."

What she saw in his eyes gave her strength. There was fire and danger and rage...and love. For the two of them to have gone through so much together, from one end of the spectrum to the other, and wind up here, she would never allow their story to end now. Not when it had only just begun. "I'm not dying tonight, Bass."

He smiled, that charming, honest smile that only his true friends were ever really witness to. Then the guards yanked him away, leading him to a rectangular box on the side of the dirt arena. Another guard pushed her forward, through a small swinging wooden door, stopping her in front of the queen. The cold blonde bitch stood, her clear blue eyes hard and fierce; Charlie hoped the look on her face was at least half as intimidating.

"We fight for this man," the queen said, pointing at Bass. "Winner take all."

"Wait." Charlie held up her hand. "If I win, I get him...and what else?"

The woman laughed. "The winner gains not only the rights to this man, but the rights to this kingdom as well. But you will not take either from me."

"What are the rules?"

"There are none." The leader stepped down from the desk, and the drums stopped. Charlie held her breath for only a moment. She glanced to the side, saw Bass shackled there, the cut on his left cheek bloody, those ridiculously blue eyes riveted on her. No, there was no way she could let him go now. Not when he'd come to mean so much.

They circled one another, Charlie carefully stepping backwards; she couldn't afford to lose her balance now. One wrong move and she was dead.

The queen dove towards her, and she slid to the side, allowing the larger woman to sail right past. Angered, the queen whipped around, a scowl on her face. Charlie knew she had to move again, and she tried to run counterclockwise around her nemesis. But she underestimated the reach of the big woman's arm and took a direct hit to the lower back. Crying out, her eyes connected with Bass's; she could see the pain he carried due to her suffering.

Shaking it off as much as she could, she turned away, jogging backwards to avoid more contact. The queen advanced, swinging out at her, and Charlie leaned back, the way she'd seen Bass do in Vegas. The initial fist missed her, but she wasn't expecting the follow up, and a right hook connected with her jaw. The crowd hissed as Charlie's head flew to the side. Stars blossomed in her vision, and she thought she heard Bass calling her name. She could taste blood from the split in her lip.

The pause in her movement allowed the queen to slip in and grab Charlie, swinging her halfway across the room and into the wall. The air left her lungs in a whoosh, and she fought with all her strength not to slide to the floor. If she got off her feet, she was dead. There was no way she was beating this woman in a one on one. It was time to use the tactics she learned from her uncle and his best friend; she needed to rely on her wits, and she needed to tip the scales in her favor.

Shouts from the crowd echoed through the room, and she could see the queen preening before her subjects. It provided Charlie with the distraction required to make her next move. Keeping her eyes focused on her enemy, she braced against the wall, using it as a push off point. Running towards the queen, she shot out her hand, connecting with the large woman and hurrying directly past her to the safety of the jury box.

The blonde gasped, trying to reach the middle of her back but unable to contort her body enough to press a hand to her new wound. Charlie ran off again, this time passing the front of the queen, her movements a blur. When she reached the wall, she turned back to the middle of the arena. The queen's hand clasped a bloody gash on her stomach. Refusing to ease her attack, Charlie shot off once again, racing past the queen's back and slashing out. When she reached the jury box again, there was a fresh new cut on the queen's shoulder.

An enraged shriek broke the night, and the queen turned towards her, growling out a curse. Charlie could feel her cheek swelling, could feel the swimming of her head; she wasn't going to make it much longer. It was time to end it.

The blonde stood slightly crouched, legs apart, arms spread wide. Charlie thought she remembered seeing pictures of wrestlers in the same position. It was meant to intimidate, but it was exactly what Charlie needed. With a battle cry, she lunged for the woman, speeding directly towards her chest. The queen seemed to expect that and hunched even lower, waiting for Charlie to barrel into her arms.

But at the last minute, Charlie changed position. It was a maneuver she'd perfected as a teenager, sliding into home plate in a friendly neighborhood game of baseball. Leading with her feet, she slipped perfectly between the blonde's legs. It was the last thing the queen expected, and by the time she recovered, Charlie had already made her final move.

The queen fell to one knee as her Achilles tendon was severed. Charlie paused for only a second, and the rest of the room finally caught a glint of the metal of the small blade Bass had given her. A drop of blood hit the ground before Charlie skillfully flipped the knife to her other hand and ripped through the queen's other heel. The blonde screeched, falling forward onto the ground. A wound of that magnitude would have been hard to deal with before the Blackout; now it was downright impossible. The large woman would never walk again, and it was possible she wouldn't even last through the night.

When it became evident that Charlie was the winner, Bass slammed his elbow into one of his captors, yanking a sword out of the man's belt and slicing through both of his guards in the blink of an eye. Jumping over the jury box, he rushed to Charlie's side, blade at the ready to take on any who might challenge her. Even in shackles, he still posed a formidable picture.

She stumbled over to the judge's bench, followed by Bass. With his help, she stepped on top of the desk and scanned the crowd. It hurt to draw a breath, and all she really wanted was to pass out for the next week or so, but she needed to claim her throne. She pointed at Bass. "I am Charlie. As the winner, I take the rights to this man. He is mine, and he will be leaving here with me. My other friends will be immediately released from their cell. Is there anyone who would contest this?"

A hushed silence echoed back at her. She nodded. "I also take my right as your queen. But I am a very different woman. I offer you the opportunity to lay permanent claim to all the lands you now possess. And I also offer you the protection of the Republic of Texas if anyone else should ever challenge you for those lands. All I ask is that you provide safe passage to travelers who have no intention of stealing from you and only wish to pass through your territory. As queen, I have the authority to enforce these rules upon you, but I would prefer to have you enter this agreement out of loyalty rather than fear. What do you say?"

There was a pause, and then a low chant began at the back of the crowd. It was her name, the sound of that single word growing in resonance until it reverberated off of the walls. She let it go for a moment, riding on the wave of acceptance, before slashing her hand through the air. "Good choice."

She wanted to say more, but she suddenly lost consciousness and fell backwards off the desk into Bass's waiting arms. A gasp shot through the crowd.

"Your new queen needs rest and medical attention. Someone show me to her chambers," Bass said. He gestured to the fallen blonde bodybuilder, who'd passed out almost as soon as Charlie finished with her. Considering all she'd threatened to do to him and Charlie, he had no qualms letting her die. "And get this garbage out of the way."

Several men ran forward to gather their former queen. "What do you want us to do with her?"

"Whatever you want," Bass said. "Except nurse her back to health."

"I'll take you to where she can sleep," another man said. Bass nodded and followed him out, Charlie gathered snugly against his chest.

* * *

She woke slowly, eyes squinting as sunlight poured in through the windows. Turning onto her side, she came face to face with Bass, his blue eyes trained on her. Lifting a hand, he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They were both naked and burrowed under plush covers. "Thank you for the knife. It came in pretty handy."

"They always fail to check the boot." They'd been relieved of their weapons as soon as they were taken into custody, but they'd missed his usual hiding place. He trailed a finger down her cheek. "It's gotten me out of a few scrapes before. But this was the most important scrape ever."

She smiled, poking her head further above the covers a bit to check her surroundings. She didn't expect to see such a beautiful room. "Did we leave while I was sleeping?"

"No." He glanced out over the room. "Apparently, the queen lived pretty well."

"This is her room?"

At Charlie's horrified look, he chuckled. "Of course not. This is a spare room that she never used."

She sighed. "Is she..."

"She died sometime in the middle of the night. I don't honestly know if that was from her injuries or...a few of her subjects didn't particularly care for her very much. They already seem happier with their new queen."

"Uh...I am so not going to be a queen. I don't belong here, Bass."

He rested a hand on her cheek. "No, you don't."

"Are Aaron and Priscilla alright?"

"Yeah, they're in a room sort of like this just down the hall."

She nuzzled into his neck. "How soon can we leave?"

"Give it another day or two, Charlie. Then we'll go. And you can put all this queen stuff behind you."

Pulling back, she looked up at him. "Well, there are a few things I'm going to enforce."  
"Such as?"

"Well, I won you. You belong to me now."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I do, huh?"

Charlie nodded. "Body and soul. But unlike her, I don't share."

"I guess that's good, 'cause I don't either."

"And...when the time is right, maybe you and I can work on creating an heir." Bass's eyes widened. "Do you accept the terms of your new queen?"

He swallowed thickly. "I think I do."

"There's just one other thing. I'm not looking for a slave, Bass, I'm looking for a partner, a king."

Leaning forward, he kissed her. "Didn't you hear I ruled a nation?"

"I heard you sucked at it."

"I'll do better this time."

"You promise?" she asked, running a hand gently over his shoulders.

"Cross my heart. By the way, that was one hell of a slide." She grinned. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"In Wisconsin."

"Did I ever tell you I used to play baseball?" He chuckled when she shook her head. "I did. I was pretty good too. So...do you think I could try to get to second base?"

She fell backwards, her hand on his neck pulling his body over hers. "I thought you said you were good."

"I was." He smirked.

She grinned right back. "Well, if you're that good, I think you might be able to steal home plate."


End file.
